Sleep and Death
by HaxeOrdinary
Summary: "You want to know the difference between Sleep and Death, darling?  Not one bloody thing."  Whole crew plus an OC
1. Sleep & Death

A quiet oath was uttered in the otherwise quiet night, alerting the man under the glow of the streetlight that he would soon have company. His stance, one foot lazily crossed over the other as he leaned against the pole, didn't change but the rest of him tensed, ready for the attack that was surely coming. It wouldn't be a physical one. He'd actually prefer that over the mental assault that he was about to walk into.

This time it was a short curse as a clatter shocked the quiet and a trashcan rattled across the far reaching arc of the light; it brought a small smile to his lips but he would have to enjoy it later.

A pair of much too expensive shoes stepped into the light followed by clean, well-pressed tailored pants, hands pushed deep into the pockets, a jacket and vest and finally the slicked back dark hair of a man that he'd grown to appreciate but hardly understood.

The man under the light straightened and placed a tight smile on his lips, "Troubles, darling?"

The man in the crisp clothing narrowed his eyes at him, the only sign of emotion, and said, "Couldn't find a field littered with landmines, Eames?"

Eames chuckled dryly. "It wasn't my choosing. Dom wanted the best forger around and sacrifices to safety…and pressed suits…had to be made."

A petite figure entered the circle of light to Eames's left, as far across the circle from Arthur as she could be. She glanced at the two of them, her gaze quickly shooting away from Arthur before she reached into her pocket, her hand clamping around something there. Eames didn't have to guess too hard that it was her totem.

She didn't look like a woman that had just earned the gross income of a small nation. Her gray hoodie was zipped nearly to her neck, hinting at a blue shirt underneath; one thumb was hooked into the back pockets of her corduroys, making her look like she was shrugging in an innocent, calm manner but the men knew differently.

"Why is she here?" Arthur asked tightly.

_That's strange_, Eames thought as he explained, "Bait." He noticed that both of them stiffened at that but he ignored it, splitting the distance between his two friends to enter the shoddy front door of the apartment building.

**~I~I~I~I~**

The first floor hallway made Eames feel like he needed a tetanus shot or a biohazard suit, whichever he could find first. The florescent bulbs overhead—the ones that weren't humming and flickering wildly—were dull, the ends orange with age, and huge close to anyone's head over six feet. There were only a handful of doors down the long hallway, two of which were padlocked from the outside, another two with several deadbolts lined up close to the jam.

Avoiding a pile of bound, aged newspapers, he peered over his shoulder to see a disgusted look on Arthur's face and a perplexed one on their mutual friend's. She was hugging her middle as if afraid to let her arms move freely, maybe afraid to touch anything, and several steps behind Arthur as if really afraid to touch him.

"Step lively, kittens," he jested, earning two bewildered stares before he stopped at the elevator doors. He pushed the "up" button in the console that was nearly falling out of the wall and heard the reassuring ding as it descended to the ground floor.

The doors slid open shakily revealing a cube with broken off handrails, a flickering light bulb and peeling Formica.

"Is that…safe?" Ariadne asked, peering around his arm into the lift.

"Safety's a relative term at this point, don't you think, luv?"

A thoughtful noise came from the back of her throat but she followed him quickly into the cubbyhole, tucking into the corner and looking expectantly at Arthur who was less willing to commit. _Or maybe something else_. Eames would have to get to the bottom of that later.

Silently, the point man entered the cabin and turned his back to them. There was definitely something going on and that was quickly moving up the ranks of interests in Eames' mind.

"Four please, darling."

A fist shot out, slamming into the number and quickly recoiled to Arthur's side—there was nothing better than pushing _his_ buttons—and the elevator slowly started its climb, the gears whirring and grinding to the point of stopping but continued to pull the car upward.

Suddenly, it shuddered to a stop and Ariadne screamed a word that was hardly ladylike. The light went out overhead, immediately replaced with a red one allowing Eames to deftly move around Arthur and step up to the fire panel. The small metal door quickly slipped away, revealing a hi-tech, retinal scanner that scanned his left eye before flashing green.

The elevator doors slid open to a crisp, sterile white hallway. The quick exhale from Ariadne was enjoyable—he liked surprising people and he knew that this well concealed swank apartment was more of a see to believe type surprise.

Exiting the lift first, his feet sinking into the plush white carpet, Eames was suddenly having second thoughts about this endeavor. He knew what the letter said, he knew that this was the only way to achieve the ridiculous feat set forth in that letter but rounding the corner and seeing her lying there, he immediately wanted to tuck tail and run.

"Whoa! Wasn't expecting this," Ariadne whispered, pulling her totem from her pocket. "It's like a dream."

"More than you know," he said.

All the lights were on, showing him perfectly what he expected. Lying face down, her left arm thrown over the small of her back, her right leg and arm hanging off the high edge, she gave the perfect illusion of death which Arthur immediately believed, lunging forward and making it slightly difficult for Eames to stop him.

"That's the quickest way to catch a bullet that you won't wake up from."

He turned his attention back to the disheveled bed and the woman hanging out of it. Her hair was now blonde, long and slightly curling. It didn't suit her, washing out her already fair complexion, but he knew it wouldn't last. He wondered what color her eyes would be when they opened—maybe green this time.

"What's going on, Eames? Why are we here? Who is this kid?"

"Don't let her hear you call her that."

"Look," Ariadne whispered, pointing to the woman's hands as her index finger twitched and she mumbled incoherently.

"Dreaming? So she's not one of us?"

"Define 'us.'"

He knelt beside the bed, brushing hair from her face, watching as her lips puckered and relaxed. He wondered what she was seeing in her dreamscape, wondered what adventures she had on her own.

"Thanie?" he said quietly. "Thanie, wake up. I need your help."

He knew she'd wake and react fast but was hardly ready for her hand as it shot up, gun at the ready and cocked before he had his fingers wrapped firmly around her wrist.

"Than! It's me! Don't shoot me, luv!" he said, throwing her aim off to the wall.

Her eyes opened slowly but alertly. Brown. There was a hint of a smile there but it was gone too quickly and he was sorry for that. She had already taken in the other two in the room without moving her eyes from his.

"You're here for a ruddy job, aren't you?" she asked in the same cocky accent as his.

"You don't know—"

"Sod off!"

Quickly, she was out of bed and on her feet, pacing over to the bathroom in measured strides.

"Than, wait! We need to talk!"

But the bathroom door slammed shut and the shower was turned on, drowning him out.

"Real winner with the ladies, aren't you Eames?" Arthur smirked.

"Watch what you say about my sister, darling."

**~I~I~I~I~**

Well? If you like, please review so I'll know if I should add another chapter or few ;)


	2. The Two Eames

Sorry for any confusion! Like the movie, from here on, I'll use Ariadne to explain things if they're confusing. Also, the perspective will focus on a different character each chapter. This one is centered on Arthur.

Thanks for the positive reviews! They truly inspire more chapters.

**Disclaimer: **Inception and its characters belong to Christopher Nolan and not me. I'm just playing.

* * *

Arthur slumped further into the funk he was already in. It was his job to know anything and everything about the job. How had he missed that Eames had a sister?

Maybe he was slipping. Being point man was a laborious job, the finer details of which he loved, but still he was finding that he was missing important things. He looked over to his right, watched as Ariadne fidgeted as she thought and he wondered what he had missed about her.

She looked up and he glanced away, taking in the crisp white walls, the Monet—probably an original—hanging over the maroon silk sheets crumbled in a ball at the foot of the massive bed. A roll top desk against the wall with the bathroom door was covered with papers and envelopes and an archaic laptop with pictures of Venice appearing and disappearing from the screen.

_No, Arthur. Too much detail._

He had heard of people in the Business setting up permanent residences, Dom and Mal of course being an instance, but he'd never actually seen one. Maybe he should have found that strange, that he had never been to his closest friend's home but that simply wasn't his style. The idea of setting down roots had never appealed to him and he thought seeing other people who had wouldn't change that feeling.

But standing in this room that the woman obviously felt safe in, he started to question that idea. The building, he imagined, must be owned by Than who "decorated" the ground floor to look like a dive to deter any unwanted visitors and set up the security measures in the elevator for any that dared venture that far. He had far more than enough money set aside for a new real estate venture; with a place like this, creating a haven for himself that wasn't in a suitcase seemed like an okay idea.

"She doesn't look like you," Ariadne stated pulling him from his reverie.

The forger nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. "She'll be happy to hear that."

"Why?"

"She's a forger," he stated plainly.

"So are you," she said.

"She makes me look like an amateur."

"But I thought you were the best of the best," Ariadne comment was more of a question.

"'Eames' _is_ the best. People simply do not differential between the two of us. Usually."

"But Dom did. Why?"

Eames thought for a moment, leaning against the nightstand causing the light to diffuse and create strange shadows around the room. Turning his attention fully to Ariadne, he said, "Than and I had an interesting childhood to say the least. Our mother didn't…we were all each other had and we did the best we could with it. When this bloke came along, offering us a 'once in a lifetime' gig, promising we'd never be separated, we jumped at the chance."

"To become forgers," Ariadne guessed.

"Yes. She, however, quickly grew tired of it and requires a real incentive to want to get back in the game."

"Me."

He nodded. "She almost killed the last architect she worked with. Called him pedestrian, a hack, that she'd make sure he never worked again and he hasn't, as far as I can tell."

"And you want me to work with her?"

"You have nothing to worry about, luv. Except…" he trailed off, glancing at the closed bathroom door as he rolled something around in his mind.

Arthur didn't like that word hanging in the air and was growing impatient. He wanted to get out of that room, to get away from the situation and the people involved. He didn't want to have to research, or prepare, or think about plans he had made that didn't work out. But he couldn't. As long as _she_ was involved, he couldn't back out. Looking over at Ariadne, he asked, "Except what, Eames?"

"For her the lines blur. Dreams, reality, let's just say you shouldn't use her as a totem."

Ariadne's face puckered. It reminded Arthur of how she reacted on the park bench in Paris just after he—

"She doesn't know if she's in a dream or not?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, she does. But she treats everything the same. She's as good of a forger in the real world as she is in the dream one."

"She dresses in disguise," she guessed again. Ariadne's intuitive leaps were amazing, something that Arthur loved about her.

"Exactly. You'll never see her as she really looks. Hell, I'm her brother and I hardly remember what her real hair color is."

"More than brother," the woman said, tying her hair in a high ponytail as she exited the bathroom. She was beautiful, conspicuously so. Her long blonde hair touched her shoulder blades as she wrapped the band around it and her eyes were a chocolate brown, too rich to be real it seemed. Even barefoot, she was tall, reminding Arthur more of a model than a woman that worked the black-market. The tight pair of leggings and a simple t-shirt she had put on accentuated all the right assets.

He glanced over at Ariadne who was watching him study the woman and enjoyed her blush when their eyes connected. She hugged her arms around her middle, as if self-conscious, and he would have given anything to be alone with her, to tell her she had nothing to worry about and then show her that was true but their new acquaintance stole his attention again.

"Blabbermouth and bloody twin," the other Eames uttered, resting her hands on her curvy hips while she studied her brother with a tight expression.

"Good to see you too, sister."

"I told you to never bring me a job unless—"

"Yes, well that 'unless' has happened and we need your help."

Her eyebrows drew together in concern. One of Eames' twitched as he stared back conveying answers to unasked questions.

As the staring match continued, Arthur huffed in annoyance, crossing his fisted arms over his chest. He wasn't in the mood to deal with sibling rivalry or whatever this display was in front of him.

Than finally spoke, her voice tight and small. "Really, Nos?"

Eames nodded again. Arthur had never heard anyone refer to Eames by his first name, let alone a nickname and he found it surprisingly strange, like he didn't really know the man before him even though they had shared the deepest, darkest secrets.

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she turned her attention to Ariadne. "You brought a girl."

"Yes."

"Well she's obviously not a point man—"

"Obviously?" Ariadne interjected.

"So, is she your chemist?"

"Why am I obviously not the point man?"

"No. Architect," Eames responded to his sister. "The best I've ever seen."

"Really?" she asked intrigued, walking over to Ariadne. She circled her, as if she were evaluating a car she wanted to buy. It threw into sharp contrast the amazing differences between the two women. Besides looks and obvious height discrepancy, the women held themselves differently, reacted to the presence of each other conversely and looked at one of each of the men in the room but not the same.

Ariadne's eyes went to Eames' while Than glanced at Arthur, leveling him with her gaze. He didn't like her eyes on him, which was another difference between the women.

The architect squared her shoulders, finally acting like the woman Arthur knew and shot, "I don't like being treated as bait, a prized steer at auction, or a conquest, Eames."

"I'm sure Arthur handles _that_ feeling quite well," he said with a smile. "I just want to use you as an architect."

Arthur shot daggers at the other man but the smile didn't waver.

"Tell your sister to back off, Eames," Ariadne ordered, not missing a beat. "Or you won't get so much as a house of cards from me."

"Calm down, darling."

"Feisty," Than declared, strolling to her brother's side. "Doesn't she want to help Dom?"

Arthur was at his limit. He was tired of being out of the loop that these siblings were in and finally demanded, "Eames, start talking. Now."

"Dom sent me a letter."

"How—"

Eames threw up a stopping hand and continued, "He wanted to prepare a contingency plan."

"She's going to help us get Dom back," Ariadne realized.


	3. Late Night Plans

Thank you oodles for the comments! More comments mean faster updates (is that too pushy? :)) and wonderful inspiration.

* * *

The shock of being in the same room with Arthur was finally wearing off to the point where she felt like she could be herself again. Almost. The late night—or rather early morning—phone call from Eames had gotten her on the first train out of the city to London. She was glad. She needed to get out of Paris.

She had bought the expensive first class train ticket—what did she care, she had money to burn—and settled into the large chair that reminded her too much of a certain plane seat so she spent the two and a half hours in the bar, playing with the water ring left by her Diet Coke. The distraction was useless as she couldn't get her mind off of the inception job, off of him. She didn't regret what she had said on the park bench but she regretted how she had said it.

They had set the meeting up late one night while they were planning the inception job. It was beyond late, actually, but she wanted to get the layout perfect for his dream world and he didn't seem to be in any hurry to go anywhere. She had made a doodle on the mapping board, thought about it, then erased it.

"Everything okay?" he asked, not looking up from the folder he was reading through.

"Yeah. I just made it too personal," she sighed.

"How so?"

"Added a park bench that I used to sit on and sketch buildings in Paris."

He studied her, his eyes slowly roving over her face, down her neck and then onward until his attention turned to the dream map. Standing, he strolled over to her, his eyes dancing around the plans before landing on the scribble.

"Tell me about it."

"The bench?" She took a deep breath, trying but failing again to figure out what cologne he wore. "Just like any other, I guess. Cast iron legs and wooden slats."

"What makes it special? Why would you want to share it with me?"

She thought about that. It was true. Yusuf's dreamscape was completely featureless, the greater details she was leaving up to him. But Arthur's was proving much more difficult to depersonalize. She kept having thoughts of urbane hotels and posh businesses, lush parks and quiet cafes, finer details that would be lost on Yusuf. She wanted Arthur to have these, have some of her memories.

A short laugh escaped, drawing his attention.

"There's nothing too special about it. Just a place that makes me feel safe."

He nodded. "Don't worry about feeling safe in the dream, I'll be watching over you."

Ariadne felt her ears grow hot.

"But," he took a breath, running a finger against her ear, "We should meet at that bench, when this is all over. I have something I want to ask you."

"Ask me now."

He shook his head, looking back at the map. "It can wait."

Ariadne blinked through the memory and focused on the dark wood flooring of Than's kitchen. She had left him sitting on the bench, watching her leave. They both had needed their distance and she knew one day he would find her, or she him, when the time was right. The thought hadn't even occurred to her that Eames would call for his help too.

But there they both stood in the kitchen, she by the counter fidgeting with the zipper on her coat and he by the window, looking out into the absolute black of near morning.

"Why didn't Dom leave me the letter?" Arthur asked the room. Ariadne didn't want to talk to Arthur directly so she turned her attention to a pen and pad of paper behind her. Than glanced up from the case notes Eames had provided, shared a look with her brother and then went back to studying. It was the only motion Ariadne had seen from the woman in ten minutes beside a random blink or finger twitch; she had started to wonder if she were even alive.

It was Eames that finally spoke. "You're point man, aren't you, darling? Not a very safe job. He couldn't be sure that you would make it."

Ariadne didn't want to think about it that way. She preferred to think that Dom was worried Arthur would react too emotionally to any request he made. Of course, she knew Arthur didn't react to anything too emotionally.

"I want to see the letter."

"Can't do that, darling."

"Why not?"

"One of the stipulations."

"The hell it is," he declared, stepping closer to the group. "I want to see it."

"Language like that won't make me acquiesce. You just stand over there brooding and leave the planning to the adults. Okay?"

"You're such a p—"

"Arthur," Ariadne interrupted, turning toward him. "Why don't you go for a walk or something? Cool down a bit."

He looked at her, his eyes dark and hurt. Suddenly, his arm violently swept out, knocking several things from the counter onto the ground, shattering a ceramic bowl and bending Ariadne's drawing in the process and then, tugging once on the bottom of his vest, he pointedly walked out of the room and down the long hall, turning just before the bedroom into another room she thought was a library.

Ariadne let out a long breath that she didn't know she was holding and rested her weight more fully against the counter. She suddenly felt like she'd been keeping her breath since she'd seen Arthur in the streetlamp light and, feeling lightheaded, bent over and rested her hands against her knees.

She glimpsed a pair of legs walked up to her right and wasn't too surprised to see Eames standing there. Straightening, she leaned back against the counter and glanced at him, his forearms resting on the surface.

"Trouble in paradise, luv?"

Tipping her head back, studying the texture of the ceiling, she uttered, "You could say that."

"Want to talk about it or shall I just go into that pretty little head of yours and extract it?"

"Neither please. Look, you won't tell Arthur, will you at least tell me what the letter said?"

Eames knelt and picked up a few of the items including Ariadne's sketch of a cottage, flattening it against his knee. "Dom didn't want him to come."

"Why not?"

"He wants Arthur out of the game."


	4. The Letter

Dear Readers,

I simply adore you. While I know not everyone is reviewing, I appreciate all those, silent and not, following this little ficlet.

A note about this chapter. This is where the meat of my thought process lies. It's a bit thick with original concepts so if I'm completely lame and can't convey what I'm thinking, please enlighten me.

* * *

_Eames, _

_We have a sorted past so I'm not going to dicker a recovery with pleasantries and false promises. It's going to be near impossible, you know. I don't know if you want to help or not but you are one of only two that I feel certain has the mettle to undertake a recovery of this magnitude. _

_Am I selfish? Hell yes._

_I don't want to say too much so try to remember that one screaming hot night in Namibia, hiding out in the mine worker's cellar and what we talked about. If anyone can figure out the particulars, I am certain it is you._

_Remember we talked about a contingency plan. Tell her I know she doesn't owe me anything but I thought that this would pique her interest. The two of you will figure this out._

_You know I love Arthur like a brother so don't involve him. Arthur won't get out of the business on his own but maybe, if the right idea is suggested to him, he'll retire_. _Maybe if he doesn't know that recovery is an option. Or if a certain woman wakes up some latent feelings…_

_If you don't want to help, I give you my pardon now. Who knows if I'd come after you._

_DC_

Ariadne flipped the letter over, inspecting the back as if she'd find a decoder for the message on the other side but, like several times before, found the paper blank.

"When did you get this?"

"Three days ago."

_How had Dom gotten a letter to Eames two weeks after the inception job?_

"Don't worry about how, luv, it'll give you a headache," he said as if reading her mind.

She finally sat down across from Than and looked the other woman in the eyes briefly before losing her nerve and looking back at the letter.

"You and Dom talked about the possibility of being…left behind?"

He spun a chair around and straddled it, resting his forearms against the back. "Namibia," he said reminiscently. "When you're stuck in a hole for twenty-seven hours with nothing but an extractor and fifty pounds of dried salted hake to keep you company, you find interesting things to discuss."

"Like recovery."

"Yes. Let's not start there, though."

"Where then?"

"Aren't you the least bit curious in that part there about Arthur," he asked, pointing to the bottom of the page.

Her lips pursed slightly. "Should I be?"

"If you weren't before, you definitely are now. Though we both know you were," he said with a wink. "If I told you not to think about a tailored suit, who would immediately jump to mind?"

Ariadne didn't like the smug grin on Eames' face but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of answering.

"Maybe we should start with recovery," she said flatly.

He thought for a moment before retrieving the pad of paper with the cottage drawing as well as the pen. He started making a diagram, Ariadne couldn't see of what, and explained, "Recovery's never been done before, at least not successfully. In the fledgling years of dream sharing, there were quite a few minds lost in the ethers. Experiments were tried for recovery but none were completed successfully.

"You see, to recover a mind lost in limbo, the chain of events that got that mind stuck must be achieved exactly. Every 't' and 'i' crossed and dotted in the exact same position as before."

"Chain of events? You mean the sequence of dreams? And the people that shared them?"

"Yes."

"That's impossible," she murmured, her attention turning more fully to the diagram he was drawing.

"There are those wrinkle lines again," Eames joked, rubbing his thumb between her eyebrows, "Don't worry about how. I'll explain that later."

They fell silent for several moments as Ariadne tried to digest the idea of going after Dom. Than sat quietly, finishing the documents in the folder before excusing herself to find Arthur. There was something off about that woman, Ariadne decided, but in the hierarchy of things to worry and think about, that was somewhat low on the list. For now, she needed to wrap her mind around what Eames was suggesting.

"You know Dom would come after you."

"True. But not for me. For the challenge."

"Perhaps."

"He didn't want to involve Arthur but there's no other way around it."

Ariadne pulled her eyes away from the paper and up to his face. "Why?"

"We _all_ have to go back. Us, Yusuf," he paused before adding, "Fischer. Just like we did before."

"That's impossible," she said again, this time a bit more forcefully.

"Improbable, maybe. Impossible is yet to be determined."

"But Dom—"

"Yeah. That's where Than comes into play."

"How so?"

"She'll be a doppelganger."

* * *

So? make sense so far? :) 


	5. A Little Complication

"A double," Ariadne reiterated.

"Yes."

"Explain, please."

He slid the paper he had been working on in front of her and she saw that it was all of their names connected with a bunch of lines, on various levels designated by numbers. The first line, labeled "1" had everyone that participated in the inception job; her fingers brushed over Dom's and Saito's names. The second row was Arthur's dream, Yusuf's name was missing, the third was Eames' dream, Arthur's name removed, and the last limbo. A think black line separated those names from the next level labeled "1A."

"1A?"

"Alternate Level One. It'll be Yusuf's dream still but what do you see that's different?"

"Than's name is in place of Dom's, Dom's is where Saito's was and Saito is missing. What does that mean?"

"It means we have to get Dom."

"And Saito?"

Eames's head was shaking so slightly back and forth that Ariadne doubted he knew he was doing it.

"We're not going to recover Saito," she realized.

"It'll be near impossible with one comatose body to lug around," he said. Then he added, "It's lucky that Saito was shot in Yusuf's dream. Less slack to pick up."

"You have an interesting interpretation of luck."

"To each his own, luv."

"Why can't Than go in Arthur's place and we can recover both Dom and Saito?"

"What part of near impossible don't you understand?" he asked a bit harshly. He scrubbed at his face as if just waking from a dream that he couldn't quite shake the aftereffects of. A murky gray glow was encroaching on the artificial brightness of the kitchen light and Ariadne realized the sun would soon be up; she decided to worry about sleep later.

Eames took a deep breath and said, "Have you ever had the same dream over and over again?"

She thought for a moment before revealing, "Sure. In college I used to dream I was losing my teeth."

"It was the same every time?"

"Yes. It got to the point where I realized I was dreaming and would wake myself up."

"That will be the main problem. We can fudge a bit with what was said and how things were done the first time around. But Yusuf, Arthur and I will know that Than is not Dom and Dom is not Saito, no matter how hard we try to think of them as their counterpart.

"It doesn't matter that it's lucid dreaming; our subconscious will feel that something's off no matter how we try to convince it otherwise and we will have to constantly fight the urge to wake up.

"If we, as the dreamers, can't stay in our own dreams, imagine how difficult it will be to keep Fischer's projections in check. Under sedation—"

"We could all end up in limbo," Ariadne finished.

"Precisely. The dream crumbles around us sending us straight to limbo. That is, if the projections don't rip us apart first."

Ariadne traced the lines down the page, following hers and Dom's all the way to limbo. "Why can't we just go straight there? With our minds connected, limbo will pretty much be the same, won't it?"

"That's why people stayed lost in the beginning years of dream sharing. The mind in limbo, in this case Dom's, has to follow the precise conduit back to reality that it got lost down."

"Let's not make this complicated at all," she mumbled under her breath.

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

"Sorry about the bowl," Arthur said, not turning when he heard Than enter the room. His head was tipped back as if he were looking for a book but his otherwise stiff body suggested he wasn't reading the titles.

"No worries," Than said, gliding to an arm chair in his peripheral vision. She sat on the edge of the back and crossed her arms over her chest, continuing her study of him while she tried to make her body sync with her mind being awake.

"You have a very nice apartment."

She nodded. "It's secure. I can get a good night's sleep. Everything else is icing."

"That thought's never really occurred to me, the idea of settling down until…. I mean, I know Dom and Mal did but that suited them. They had kids. Then…" Arthur pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it, making a face when he realized it was a book of bedtime stories.

"You are pretty close with Dom," she stated.

He returned the storybook and offered, "We've worked together for a while."

"No, it's more than that, I think. He cares about you like family."

"Funny way of showing it," he grumbled.

Her eyebrow shot up but she didn't say anything. It was obvious that he wasn't sleeping, aided or not; deep purple shadows rimmed his eyes and there was an unnatural tension across his shoulders.

"Do you have any family?"

"Family creates unnecessary baggage."

"Lovely thought," she jested.

"Look at Dom and Mal. They ended up dead, didn't they?"

"Debatable," she replied, waiting a beat to change the subject. "You look like hell. A couple nights in your own bed—"

"My own bed?"

"Don't you have a place to call home?" She knew the answer, it was apparent in his countenance, but wanted him to say it.

He tapped his fingers against the shelf in front of him, obviously lost in a thought, maybe even a memory. "Five star hotels suit me just fine."

"Maybe."

Turning to her, his face became more fully illuminated by the overhead light and she bit her lips together to keep from saying anything. It had been two weeks since they had lost Dom and it looked like he hadn't slept more than a few hours during that time. His cheeks were tight against his bones and she wondered if he had eaten much at all.

"You should get some sleep—" he scoffed "—and get back on your game. Then you can help us."

"I don't know if you're aware but Dom doesn't think I can cut it on this job."

"That's not true and if you understood family, you might get that."

"When did you become the woman with all the answers?"

She shrugged.

"No. Honestly," he said heatedly. "What makes you the Queen with the golden touch?"

Resting her hands on the back of the chair, she mulled that over for a moment before answering, "I'm not some rara avis that's going to swoop in and save the day in the eleventh hour."

"What are you then?"

"I'm a forger. Nothing more and certainly nothing less."


	6. To Sleep

Dear Readers,

I'm so glad that so many are following/favoriting/alerting my story and I would love even more to know if you have any ideas on plot, characters, confusing parts, etc. (y'know, reviews are a great place for that!) best, h.

* * *

disclaimer: These characters and the original storyline are not mine. :)

* * *

"I finally convinced Arthur to lie down," Than said, joining her brother in the kitchen some time later. The day had finally dawned and bright light was flooding the long room, just reaching their feet. "He's in the spare bedroom."

Eames chuckled. "He'll either be pleasantly surprised or extremely annoyed to find Ariadne already there."

"He'll hide his pleasure with his annoyance. You boys never seem to know the right thing to do with us girls."

"Spoken like a know-it-all woman."

"Guilty."

He smiled. He really had missed his sister. "Yusuf called a bit ago. His flight had just arrived so he should be here in a few hours. While we wait, we should start prepping an identity for you to use to woo Fischer."

"Ah, yes. The forgery before the forgery. So that I can get him on the plane."

"Precisely. Any ideas?"

"That bleach-blonde bombshell that you tend to favor would do, I think."

"Can't. Used her in the bar of Arthur's dream."

She shook her head, a small grin brightening her face. "You'll never get over her snubbing you, will you, Nos?"

"Who only gives a bloke six numbers? At least make me work to insult my intelligence!"

A snigger escaped her composed face which turned into a cackle when he shot her a nasty look. She reached over and tweaked his cheek which finally pulled out a smile and a soft chuckle.

"I'm glad you're not still mad at me, Thanie. I knew this job would be too important for you to stay mad."

Her lips puckered and a deep frown creased the skin on her forehead. She muttered, "I think a fiery redhead will do nicely."

The change in subject wasn't lost on Eames but he felt inclined to reassure her. "We're going to make it work this time, Thanie. I promise."

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Arthur loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes, careful not to send them into anything since he couldn't see much in the dark space. The shades were drawn causing it to be utterly dark in the room, something he was grateful for, but it made it almost impossible to find the bed, a feat he accomplished by shuffling his feet until his shins hit the side.

His vest hit the floor just as he hit the mattress and his eyes closed just after that. Than, as much as he didn't want to admit it, was right about how good a secure bed really felt. He could pay off as many hotel managers and workers as he wanted but there was always a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that at any moment his world would tumble around him. It was impossible to forget how easy it had been for Saito to find him and Dom. And what happened to the last architect he knew…he couldn't let that happen again.

He squirmed a bit to find a better position and tucked a hand behind his head.

In a place like this, he truly felt like he was in a sanctuary because he knew that there were probably twice as many hidden security features as visible ones. The rest of his life seemed completely in the open in comparison. Anytime he went into the public, there was a chance it'd be his last. His mind wandered back to Paris. It had been a surprise to both of them what happened but he would never regret for a second that it did.

There was no sense rehashing that again now.

He was amazingly tired but not at all sleepy. The idea of a family unit was rolling around in his mind and he couldn't quite shake it. It was strange what bounced around in his head when all he wanted to do was shut off his brain. He didn't really know where the thought had come from but decided it might have been a compilation of several events and comments made in his life recently.

His eyelids slid closed and then dragged open. Finally the fingers of Sleep were grabbing at him, pulling him into slumber.

A soft sigh to his left startled him, just like a kick, and he felt a rush of adrenaline, one that he didn't fully mind. Rolling over on his side, he could just distinguish the outline of her face, the slight slope of her nose, the part of her full lips. She really was one of the prettiest beings he had ever seen.

He reached forward and ran his finger lightly down the length of her nose, over her lips and back up her cheek. She sighed against his skin, the breath warm and comforting as it slid between and around his fingers.

How could he have missed her soft breathing all this time?

It was quiet and constant and the longer he listened, the more perceptible and familiar it became. The steadiness of it revealed she wasn't dreaming but that she was deep in sleep. He wondered what she would be dreaming about if she could.

She rolled toward him, resting her cheek on top of her hands. A lock of hair fell onto her face and he tucked it away behind her ear, his fingers lingering there. He couldn't help thinking that everything about her, especially in this moment, seemed pure and innocent.

He closed his eyes and remembered with perfect clarity the sparkle in hers the first few times she experienced pure creation. It was a look that he didn't think he had ever had. Even in the beginning, though the job was challenging, he didn't think he could say he loved it like she did.

Easily, naturally he leaned toward her, marveling at the feeling of her breath against his face. It was as if he was dreaming; that anything right and perfect could happen and all the bad was left to the nightmares of the real world.

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Ariadne woke suddenly from the sensation of a dream though she knew she hadn't been dreaming. She touched her lips, trying to force the memory to the surface but couldn't quite wrap her fingers around it. It was familiar and wonderful and warmed her to her toes but that was all she could remember.

She glanced to her right and was surprised to find Arthur there sleeping peacefully. He was in the middle of the bed, his head cradled against both of their pillows, and he looked relaxed. She didn't think she had ever seen him that tranquil.

Rubbing her arm from the cool setting in from the lack of his heat, she slid slowly off the bed to her feet. Suddenly a hand clamped around her wrist, pulling her attention back to the bed.

"Stay, please," he asked, his voice gruff and deep.

"Arthur, I don't think—"

"Don't think. Just stay," he said. He seemed aggravated, like he didn't think he should have to say anything, like she should naturally want to stay.

She thought for a moment. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear but she couldn't deny there was a small part of her that wanted to comply. Still…

"It's just sleep."

Ariadne frowned slightly. "You should know it's not just sleep. 'Night, Arthur," she said before slipping from his grasp and leaving the room.


	7. Perchance to Dream

Same disclaimers.

* * *

Eames sat at the kitchen table, shelling pistachios and tossing the waste onto a paper towel. It was raining outside, the light gloomy and gray, and he found it oddly haunting. Memories were creeping into his mind that he didn't want and he was finding hard to shake.

Ariadne walked into the room, a notebook in her hands. "What are we supposed to do?" she asked, tapping the pad of paper against her palm.

"Wait it out, Ariadne."

"It feels…strange here. Like there's something I'm missing or shouldn't be missing."

"It's hard to get used to, isn't it?"

"Extremely."

"Try, luv. Your calm, I do believe, will help us all. Especially when it comes time for Arthur to do his thing."

She nodded then turned to the counter as Arthur entered the room.

"I think he's ready," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. "He's been trying to collect his thoughts in the library."

"It's too bad he can't make a magical potion, eh?" Eames asked, trying to lighten the mood. Ariadne turned a raised eyebrow his way and he offered a half-grin. "True. No fun in that a'tall. No challenge."

Slow, soft steps pulled their attention to the doorway as Yusuf entered the room. He had the look of a man that was trying to do long division with numbers in the millions and wasn't having much success of it.

"Yusuf," Ariadne asked and was immediately quieted by a raised hand.

"Let's do this," he said, resting his hands on his hips.

Down the hall they heard someone clear their throat and stand from a chair making more noise than usual which was more than necessary. Yusuf's eyes closed and his forehead wrinkled but he didn't say anything.

Unhurriedly, Dom Cobb materialized in the doorway, his hands leisurely tucked into his pockets, his face blank and emotionless. He walked around the room, his shoes clicking against the marble tiles as he stepped closer to each of the other dreamers in turn, finally taking up a spot behind the table where Eames was sitting.

Eames stood and addressed the extractor. "Dom, it's good to see you again."

"Especially under these circumstances," Cobb responded. His tone was even as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Ariadne. Arthur. Arthur, is that a new suit?"

The point man shuffled his feet and responded in the affirmative.

Cobb nodded. "Yusuf? Yusuf, are you going to join the party? I know you're curious."

The chemist slowly opened his eyes, focusing on the floor before looking up at Arthur, the person furthest away from the impostor. He was taking slow, measured breaths which seemed to be working as the world around them was quiet and calm. Next, he turned to Ariadne who offered a small smile, loosening the tension in her shoulders and slouching against the counter. He smiled back before his attention turned to Eames' face where he locked on, unwilling to look any further.

"Hey, Yusuf. Feeling alright?" Eames asked as lightheartedly as he could.

"As well as can be expecting, I suppose."

Dom cleared his throat again. It was a simple tactic to remind everyone he was in the room and something they had found effective. "C'mon, Yusuf. You're going to have to look at me eventually."

Eames slowly turned his attention to Than who was masquerading as Dom just as the chemist turned his attention to her. The table began to shake slightly but another steadying breath quieted down the tremor.

"Good," Eames stated, taking a deep breath himself. "Progress. Dom, why don't you step away from the wall and walk around a bit, aye?"

Suddenly Dom's eyes grew wide and he uttered a curse and Eames' head whipped in the other direction, looking at Yusuf, knowing what would come next.

The chemist frowned and his eyes unfocused, like he was engrossed in a deep memory.

"Yusuf," Eames warned, reaching a hand toward the other man.

Yusuf looked up at him but his gaze immediately shot over his shoulder to the man standing behind Eames. He studied him for the briefest of moments before blinking several times and then slowly shaking his head from side to side as if trying to remove water from his hair.

"Yusuf! _No_!"

But it was too late. The room shuddered and tipped as if they were in a gigantic snow globe and someone decided to give it a shake. Someone had given it a great shake but it was Yusuf, realizing what he was seeing wasn't what he was supposed to be seeing and was trying to wake himself up.

Ariadne tumbled across the room, rolling to a stop at Arthur's feet and Than turned back from Cobb's form into her own before the walls began to crumble.

"Everyone outta the pool!" Eames yelled pulling out a knife and stabbing his sister in the chest, watching her disappear. He turned to see Yusuf was already gone leaving Arthur hovering over Ariadne with a knife in his hand; she was looking at him with wide doe-eyes.

Eames skidded over to them and wasted no time plunging the knife deep into Ariadne's chest, not waiting to watch her disappear.

"Arthur, don't confuse loving her and killing her," Eames advised before stabbing himself in the chest.

**I~I~I~I~I**

Eames rubbed at his eyes, more from exhaustion and annoyance than anything. It was the sixth time they had tried and the sixth time that Yusuf had failed to keep his dream together.

Arthur cursed and went to the machine, fiddling with the time again. "We can't go any less than five minutes. Yusuf needs that time to compose himself before seeing Than. This is impossible! We're all going to end up in limbo with no hope of saving Dom."

Eames didn't want to, but he was finding himself agreeing with Arthur. They were dream sharing without a watcher which was near suicide for what they were attempting to do but they couldn't risk bringing in an outsider at this point. Watchers were a failsafe that could provide a good vigorous kick incase those dreaming couldn't get to each other to force a wake up.

Cursing again, Arthur pushed himself to his feet and mumbled something about needing a glass of water. He brushed past Ariadne who was rolling her totem along the arm of her chair; his foot knocked into the leg, knocking the bishop to the floor and pulling a loud protest from Ariadne.

With mild surprise, Eames watched as the other man stormed out of the room without looking back. Glancing at his sister, who was watching as she tried to comfort Yusuf, he realized she was more right about Arthur than he wanted to admit but a plan was evolving as to how he could use that anger to their advantage.

He followed behind the point man to the kitchen and waited quietly as he rummaged around in the refrigerator. Finally, Arthur slammed the door shut and rested his forehead against the cool exterior.

"You alright there, Arthur?" Eames asked softly, hoping not to unleash his pent up fury.

"Of course."

"Y'know," he said, perching on the edge of the table, "we may not be able to take you and all that baggage with us on this trip. They charge for extra luggage these days."

"Stop being a smart a—"

"Ease up there, darling. Name calling will get you no where. Want to talk about it?"

Arthur exhaled noisily and gripped the edge of the refrigerator. "This is all my fault; Dom getting stuck, having to get recover him, and Ari…I wasn't on my game."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"I didn't cover all the bases! You were there. Fischer had prepared for an attack. I'm the reason Saito was shot, I'm the reason Dom had to go into limbo in the first place!"

"Dom went to limbo to get Fischer."

"Yeah, well he stayed to find Saito and didn't come back."

"Arthur, it's part of the job. Sometimes things get messy."

"It's my responsibility to make sure the mess doesn't happen," he responded harshly.

Things were a lot clearer to Eames now but it wasn't at all helpful. Unless…

Eames said, "It's hard enough to get to each other in the kitchen. What are we going to do when we're miles apart in one of the real dreams and we can't get to Fischer in time to wake him up or chase him to limbo?"

Arthur straightened. His change into work mode was palpable, like someone had flipped a switch.

Eames wasn't going to blame him for what happened. Dom Cobb had been in this business long enough and thought he could handle anything that came his way and the two things had caught up with him. That wasn't Arthur's fault.

"We need a projection not belonging to the dreamer or the subconscious filling the dream. We need a Mal—"

"I know who you mean."

"Got any ideas on how we can manage that?"

Arthur looked down, his mind focused on a million other things and said, "I think I can manage that."

* * *

So? I'm hoping for some feedback. Is there anything you want to have happen? Anything you don't want to have happen? Is it moving too fast or too slow? It only takes a second to review! Thanks!


	8. The Rabbit Hole

disclaimer: Anything familiar, character or quote, is from the movie _Inception_ and not mine.

* * *

Yusuf finally maintained his dream world on the eighteenth try, even going as far as being able to shake Dom's hand and joke with him. The man still looked like he was trying to pass a basketball but at least the tremors in the dream had stopped. They knew it would be easy once everyone was asleep in the van but it was getting to that point that they were worried about.

They had stopped for a late dinner, ordering from a local noshery that Than claimed was the best food outside of Paris, and were eating sedately in the living room. The room seemed so off kilter that Arthur took out his loaded die to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Than was quietly lobbing memories at Eames now and then making him chuckle or groan, Yusuf was hunkered over a case of chemicals muttering to himself, and Ariadne was balancing a sketch pad on one knee and her dinner on the other. It didn't seem possible that this same group was trying to undertake the most difficult task unknown to the average man.

On the outside, everything seemed peaceful and perfect; Arthur felt anything but that on the inside. He still couldn't shake the image of seeing Dom on the plane, looking peaceful and perfectly asleep but they knew he was anything but that on the inside. The realization that Dom was stuck in limbo on that fateful day had shattered Arthur's well maintained composure and the majority of people in this room had seen him at his weakest point.

He didn't want to dwell on that.

He appreciated this job because it gave him something to focus his mind on and without it, he didn't know how far down the rabbit hole he could be. Yes, it helped to have something to focus on. It helped to keep the demons at bay.

"We still haven't solved the problem of Dom looking nothing like Saito," Arthur voiced after having mulled it over for some time.

Than was the one to respond. "That's not really needed. Since Saito was more of a tourist, he didn't play a major role."

"Plus, we'll just put a bag over his head," Eames added.

"Not helping, Nos," Than chastised. "Don't worry, Arthur. I think Dom as Saito will be a minor detail. Especially once you get into the swing of things, yeah?"

He offered a half-grin and found that the muscles were sore from lack of use. Scrubbing at his face, he wondered about the man he had become in the last two weeks and didn't like what he was discovering. He needed—_wanted_—to change that.

"Well, Arthur?"

He realized everyone was staring at him and that Eames had asked him a question.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Maybe he's not ready," Eames said to his sister.

"No, no. Let's do this."

**I~I~I~I~I**

Arthur exhaled as slowly as possible as he took in the vast lobby of the hotel. He didn't expect to ever be back here and trying to get everything exactly right was proving slightly difficult.

"The lamp was rectangular," Ariadne stated, pointing to the sofa where they had spent the first part of the dream. The sofa where he had tricked her into kissing him.

He smiled slightly, "You sure?"

"Yes. You kept things very linear."

Nodding, he adjusted the lamp and continued constructing the hotel.

"I like your dream much better than mine," Yusuf claimed, flopping down on a chair. "There's no danger of rolling the hotel down an embankment. No SUVs trying to run you off the road. Here is nice and calm."

"You could try doing everything in zero gravity. That was nice and calm," Arthur rebutted, adding two more steps up to the front doors.

"Yes, because we're in need of a greater challenge," Ariadne mumbled.

"Don't worry, little lamb," Eames offered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her off. The more distance they gained, the less Arthur could hear but he thought Eames said something about "piece of cake."

_Easy for you to say_, Arthur thought as he added the bar stools in front of the bar, the tables, the shelves and everything else to make the room just perfect. It made him think of Dom, walking in there with the mad idea that he could pull off a Mr. Charles and then doing it.

He watched as Eames left Ariadne by the sprawling window bank at the front of the lobby and then head off with Yusuf to map out Saito's path from the first time around; Arthur didn't think it would be too difficult. Ariadne could probably do the wallet swap and meet up in the hotel room later but he was glad that they were going to be prepared.

"Are you ready for this," Than asked, pulling his mind back to the task at hand.

"Give me a minute?" he asked.

She offered a soft smile and nodded before walking off toward Ariadne.

Nodding too, he closed his eyes and focused his thoughts. He was always one that liked a challenge, that's how he fell into the point man job after all, and this seemed the perfect task to hone his abilities.

He knew what was coming. Than would transform into Dom and would no longer exist, only Dom. He had experienced enough dreams, enough changes on the fly, that imagining Dom there would be effortless. That was what the problem was with Yusuf; he didn't experiment enough in the dream world to be able to handle the surreal physics of a dream. But Arthur could do this. He knew he could.

"I can do this."

"Are you sure," Dom asked, his voice close.

The window panes rattled slightly in their casings but quickly stopped when Arthur got over the shock of hearing his friend's voice so close. In his mind, he imagined what Dom would look like when he opened his eyes. But as he did, Arthur couldn't quite overcome the piercing intensity of Dom Cobb's haunting eyes.

He realized that in all the attempts Yusuf had had to make to keep his dream together when seeing Dom, Arthur had never looked the fake extractor in the face to do the same. The floor shook violently, a large fissure cracking through the surface behind him before he could take a deep breath to recompose himself.

Cobb took in the large gash and said, "Smooth, old friend. I could almost be impressed if I didn't know you were going to fail. _Again_."

Arthur narrowed his eyes skeptically. He didn't know what Than was trying to do but he didn't think provoking him was a smart tactic.

"Who're you going to kill next? Ariadne? Why don't you just send everyone you claim to care about straight to limbo?"

"You're not Than," Arthur breathed with realization, unable to look away from Dom's face. As his heartbeat sped to a dull thrum, he could feel just at the edges of his mind that the man standing before him was from his mind. There was a haunting familiarity to him that made him seem less than real.

"Brilliant deduction, Arthur," Cobb taunted, his head cocking to one side. "Can't you even do this right?"

"You're not really Dom," Arthur declared, trying to shake the projection out of his dream. This isn't what he had expected. When Eames had asked him to provide a rogue projection that could help kill them in a pinch, his mind immediately went to Dom. Dom would be their Mal.

"That's right. Because you killed the real Dom, didn't you?"

The pictures were rattling noisily against the walls and a chandelier pinged and tinkled above them.

Arthur hadn't taken into consideration his latent feelings toward the other man. He didn't realize that controlling the projection would be no easier than controlling the real Dom Cobb.

"Dom, I'm—"

"_Arthur_!"

Arthur's attention shot across the lobby to Than sprawled on the ground, hugging her arm to her body with a panicked expression marring her face. Suddenly he realized why.

"Ariadne," Arthur breathed. He watched in horror as a well polished version of Ariadne hovered over the real architect with a knife in hand. The true Ariadne clung to the sofa, the sofa where they had shared their first kiss, and flinched away from the projection as she hissed and taunted her.

The projection turned a sneer in Arthur's direction when he yelled at her to just kill the architect. "Sure I could wake her up, but where's the fun in that?" she asked, plunging the knife deep into the architect's thigh.

Ariadne screamed out in pain as the projection declared, "Pain is in the mind, after all! _Where I am_. Can't let her leave just yet."

"Eames!" Arthur yelled. "_Eames_!"

Than finally struggled to her feet and lunged at the projection, struggling with her briefly before the knife was thrust hard into her chest causing her to disappear instantly.

Arthur dove toward the identical females only to be stopped by his projection of Dom, the man's arms snapping around his chest, keeping him from going anywhere.

Arthur cursed and fought against his restraints. "Ariadne, fight back!"

"You know she won't, dear Arthur," Dom muttered in his ear. "She's just too…innocent. That's one of the reasons you love her, isn't it?"

"Stop it! Stop…I can't," he trailed off, finding it more difficult to fight and keep the world from crumbling around them. "Why is this happening? _Eames_!"

Eames slid around the corner of the wall and shot Ariadne, yelling in triumph as she vanished. Arthur turned to thank him but watched as he faded away too, having been kicked out of the dream by someone in the real world.

"Isn't it funny how they all left you like you left me?"

**I~I~I~I~I**

Arthur opened his eyes from his place on the floor. He was feeling the telltale effects of someone giving him a kick; looking up at Than, he realized she had pushed him from the couch.

His face was hot and sweaty, his breathing shallow and fast. He was in trouble.

"Bloody hell," Eames breathed, "Wasn't expecting that."

* * *

a/n: so sorry for the delay. This chapter proved difficult to write (and rewrite). I'm truly grateful for all that are reading and especially those reviewing! It's what helped me through a bit of a block. Thanks!


	9. Body Snatching

Dear Readers, don't worry. I don't plan on losing interest and I hope you don't either. I plan to see this through to fruition.

* * *

disclaimers: same as before

* * *

Eames watched the ice cubes shimmy in his glass of water as he waited out the tremor and crossed his ankle over his knee, tapping his fingers restlessly against his leg. He had experienced worse but that didn't make them any less annoying. Glancing over at Arthur, he found that the point man's eyes were shut, his hand's clasped together; if he didn't know better, he would think the other man was praying but, having seen that look several times, knew he was trying to calm his emotions. Finally with one hard shake, the vibrations stopped and things were quiet again.

"Sorry about that, folks," a voice interrupted from overhead. "We seem to be traveling through some light turbulence. We're going to keep the 'fasten seatbelts' signs on for a while longer. Please enjoy the rest of your flight."

"I hate turbulence," Arthur declared from his place next to Eames. He adjusted his position in his seat and grabbed his Sky Mall magazine from the floor. It was the first thing he had truly said on the flight and Eames had started to wonder if he had taken a vow of silence. "This is a fool's errand anyway."

"Quiet down, darling," Eames mumbled, taking out his poker chip and spinning it on the tray in front of him.

"Even if we can get Dom's body—"

"Little louder there, luv."

Arthur continued quieter. "Even if we can get it back, what does it matter? Ariadne's gone."

"And whose fault is that?"

He knew it was a low blow but he didn't want to listen to Arthur anymore. He knew very well whose fault it was as he reflected on the night before.

_Than had tipped Eames' chair over, knocking him out of the dream as he fell from the seat. He removed the needle from his vein as he watched Ariadne rip the one from hers. Her breathing was shallow and fast, her hair was matted from sweat to her forehead, and her eyes wouldn't quite focus. She exhibited every sign of someone who had just had the worst nightmare of their life._

_Pulling her totem from her pocket, she rolled it between her fingers while she rubbed absentmindedly at her leg as if testing to see if any blood would ooze out. _

_Than scrambled passed Yusuf where he lay on the floor to Arthur, sizing him up briefly before grabbing his hip and rolling him off of the couch._

_Eames watched as Arthur opened his eyes, alert with culpability as he looked at Than with relief and appreciation. _

"_Bloody hell," Eames breathed, "Wasn't expecting that."_

"_I can't make a chemical for that," Yusuf said flatly._

"_Not now, Yusuf," Than chastised, resting her hands on the back of the sofa. "Why don't you get us something to drink, yeah?"_

_The chemist rubbed the back of his neck, muttered something in Arabic and left the room. _

"_Something potent!" Eames called, slowly rising to his feet and righting his chair before flopping onto it._

"_Is that how you see me?" Ariadne asked quietly._

_Suddenly Eames wished he was anywhere but there._

"_You know it was just a projection, Ariadne," Arthur replied._

"_Yeah. And I don't know which is worse—that she's a little like me or a lot like you."_

_Arthur looked away, avoiding responding._

"_I'm done. I can't do this anymore." She stood, grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and headed to the elevator._

"_Ariadne, wait!" Arthur called, vaulting after her._

"_He better catch her," Than declared. "We can't do this without her."_

"_He needs to let her go. But she'll be back."_

"_How can you be so sure?"_

"_I think we both know the answer to that."_

"Play nicely, brother, or I'll separate the two of you."

Eames blinked out of the memory and smiled at her. "You know me."

"That's what I'm talking about."

**I~I~I~I~I**

A few hours later, the trio stepped through the sliding glass doors at the front of the airport and welcomed the slightly humid air and bright sun above. The forger was feeling sore through his back and he wished he was on a warm beach somewhere, enjoying his millions and a beautiful brunette massaging his aching muscles.

Shrugging that idea off, he said, "Good luck, Thanie," hugged his sister goodbye, and handed her bag to her.

"You're not going with us," Arthur realized.

"No. Time to enact phase two of the plan. Or are we up to forty-seven at this point?"

"At least," Eames offered.

"What are you doing?"

"Going fishing," she smiled, slipping on her sunglasses and hailing a cab.

"Don't come back without him," Eames called to her.

"You either," she responded.

**I~I~I~I~I**

Saito was a smart man. He had purchased the airline because it seemed "neater." He had paid off the people that worked for it and had enough dirt on each of them so that payment would keep them quiet. He had a contingency plan for claiming bodies that no longer had a mind attached to them. He had altered the flight manifest so none of them were ever on the plane. He had covered any and every possible situation.

That was why Eames wasn't surprised to find Saito's and Cobb's bodies resting comfortably in a sedate corridor of the small, private hospital. As they walked passed rooms, Eames realized it was quiet because no one occupied those rooms. He wondered if Saito had purchased those as well.

All of the machines had been turned to silent in the hospital room but they could see the steady flat line on Dom's EEG machine from where they stood. They walked over to his body on the left and took in the scene quite soberly. One false move and it could be either or both of them in that same position.

"I've seen him look like this countless times and I just expect him to open his eyes at any moment and yell at me for missing something."

"I doubt that happened very often."

"Once is one time too many," Arthur countered.

"You've got to stop beating yourself up, Arthur; that's not going to help any of us. Especially if you keep that darling pseudo-Ariadne around. As far as shades go, she's a doozy."

"I'm working on it. Seeing Dom this way…I'm working on it."

"You better be. Being point man doesn't suit me. I'd rather go back to being a simple forger."

Arthur shot him a funny look but Eames didn't elaborate as a man in an expensive suit entered the room. The man was dignified looking; the hair at his temples was gray which matched his eyes and the frames of his glasses. His shoulders were tense, like a rod was resting across them, but he tried to seem calm as if there wasn't a brain dead billionaire and a comatose criminal in the room.

"Mr. Saito explained everything when he became our newest benefactor. I'll have the staff prepare them for transport."

"Unfortunately we'll only be taking Mr. Cobb at this time," Eames responded.

"I'm sorry, sir. The stipulation was that—"

"We don't care about any ruddy stipulations," Eames interrupted.

"The stipulation," the man spoke over Eames, "is that all or none of the bodies must be claimed. I am to have arrested anyone that suggests otherwise."

Eames exhaled noisily and pushed his suit jacket back to rest his hands against his waist. He didn't know exactly which tactic he wanted to use to intimidate the man but goodness knew he had a litany of options to choose from.

"Then we'll take both," Arthur voiced from his position next to Dom's bed.

"Excellent," the hospital representative said as he made a hasty retreat. "I'll get the ball rolling. Shouldn't take too long."

After the man left, Eames let out a long, low string of curse words with Arthur's name thrown in intermittently. Finally, regaining his composure, Eames asked, "Is there a reason, Arthur, why you've suddenly decided to act once more like a point man with such a foolish declaration?"

"I've been thinking."

"Ah, dandy. I'm glad that you've been thinking, sweetheart, but it seems that a few of your screws have been loosened along the way."

"What's wrong with taking Saito's body?"

"It's not like adopting a _puppy _or taking care of a _plant_, _Arthur_! Just what exactly do you plan to do with it?"

"I'm working on that, too."


	10. Fisching

So sorry for the delay! Than did not want to play nice. I couple reviews might encourage the characters to come out and play. ;)

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disclaimer: I own nothing familiar.

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His breath was hot and fast against her neck making the red hair of her wig stick uncomfortably to her neck. "Why do I feel like I'm flirting with death," he asked, pulling back slightly to look into her emerald green eyes._

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

_Twelve hours earlier_

Than rested her glass on its edge, daring it to tip over. She knew it would; that was a consequence of reality—gravity. That was the only difference she recognized between the sleeping world and the waking one. Say the right words, wear the ideal outfits, do the perfect things and you could get anything you wanted anywhere.

That was why she was such a good forger. She had immersed herself in it. She loved the idea of giving up her identity and reinventing herself at a moment's notice.

Her usual countenance tended to deter people from staring—she was once told by a man he would rather stare down the Grim Reaper than her—but when she needed to attract a certain person, she didn't mind taking on a personality that liked being ogled. She felt stronger, smarter and freer with a simple change of hair color or a different set to her gait. She could hide in plain sight and that suited her perfectly fine.

Everyone's eyes were on her now, she could feel them. She was in an upscale hotel bar in a metropolitan area, the only thing about her that fit in was her black pumps, and everyone was letting her know that she didn't belong. The feeling was nothing new. At least these people weren't projections that would rip her apart at any moment.

She really didn't care about them anyway. She was just trolling the waters, waiting for the big fish across the room to take the bait so she could reel him in.

He was eyeing her, watching her from his place in the corner between the water feature and a member of his legal team. It was only a matter of time before temptation would become too much and he'd act on his feelings.

Tossing her red hair off her shoulders, she could feel the clasp at the back of her neck break causing her necklace to slip slowly from her collarbones, down the front of her tight black dress and onto the floor. She could imagine what he must be thinking as he watched it's slow decent down her body, realizing she had no idea she had lost it.

He loved being a white knight with very little effort and the bait was perfect.

Slowly he stood from his seat, said his excuses to his companion and walked confidently to her side. He looked every bit the predator that didn't realize he was prey.

_Excellent._

Forgers were required to be good fishers and Than was the best.

"Excuse me," he said softly, glancing up at her from his kneeling position where he had collected her necklace. "I believe…"

"Yes?" her accent had changed slightly, not that he would know. But she knew he had an affinity for Irish beauties and so she had added the proper lulls and lilts to her words.

"I saw it," he paused and chuckled self-consciously before saying, "your necklace," running his thumb over the simple charm. "How strange."

She knelt next to him and rested her hands lightly against his knee. "I know it's childish, a pinwheel, but it makes me think of a happier time. Look," she pinched the small stick and flicked her nail against the top part, making it spin, "just like the real thing. It's not worth a rake of feathers but me da gave it to me. Thank you, Mr.-?"

"Fischer. _Robert_."

"Thank you, Robert." She flashed him an uncharacteristically brilliant smile.

His eyes narrowed. "I…I'm sorry. I…feel like I know you. Is that possible?"

"I must have one of those faces," she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Your face I'd remember."

"Maybe in your dreams," she whispered, standing and turning as if to leave.

His hand clasped around her upper arm, stopping her.

_Brilliant_, she thought, turning startled eyes his way. "Aye?"

"Have a drink with me?"

**I~I~I~I~I**

_Twelve hours later_

Robert Fischer was an amazing kisser. It was the one thing that was going to make this job acceptable. He had found a sweet spot below her ear that made her shiver slightly when he ran his lips against it but his strong hands held her so tight it was almost unnoticeable.

He pressed her against the wall, trapping her there as he grasped the doorframe into the bedroom behind her. "This is crazy," he declared, kissing her again.

"Why?"

"I don't even know you."

"But you want to," she stated, running her fingers through his hair.

"Yes," he murmured, kissing her jaw. His breathing was intense and fast against her skin making her feel uncomfortably hot. Suddenly his phone rang, causing him to groan deep in the back of his throat. "I have to answer this, I apologize."

He pulled back but she latched her fingers around his neck. "Don't leave me," she whispered, kissing him slowly.

He groaned again but for a vastly different reason before pulling out his phone and answering it. "What?"

Than heard a man's voice that she knew well but had never spoken to its true owner before. He sounded older and familiar, like a favorite uncle.

"_Robert? I really think you should reconsider."_

"I'm not going to, Uncle Peter," he responded before pressing his lips to her earlobe.

"_Destroying your father's company like this, it's—"_

"I'm not destroying anything. I'm making something. Of myself."

"_Robert, I know that you're grieving—"_

"Grieving what? The loss of a father that couldn't show that he loved me or a multi-billion dollar company? I'll be in on Monday to sign the final paperwork."

"_Rober—"_

"Goodbye, Uncle Peter."

He terminated the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. His face was still pressed close to her neck; she could feel the hairs there matting from the moisture from his breath and their body heat. Sighing, he asked, "Why do I feel like I'm flirting with death?"

Pulling back, he looked into her emerald green eyes.

She could see the pain there, the sleepless nights and the worry that he had felt since his father's passing. He seemed haunted but not by the ghosts of his past but by those that were to come.

Smiling softly, she cupped his cheek lightly and pressed a sweet kiss against his lips.

"Don't worry, luv. There's nothing wrong with flirting with Death. Just don't fall in love with her."


	11. The Park Bench

Thank you to those that continue to review. It really makes my day and helps me write faster! I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it answers some of your questions. Best.

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disclaimers: nothing familiar is mine.

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"How long have you been sitting here," she asked quietly from behind him.

Arthur grinned softly to himself and sighed. The heavy weight that had settled on his chest sometime in the last few days seemed to lessen, if only slightly. "What time is it?"

"Five."

"Seven hours," he responded, peering up over his shoulder to look at her face. The park bench was stiff and uncomfortable but he had waited patiently hoping that she would come, that they could talk, and the he could fix things with her.

She was beautiful standing there in the late afternoon light. Her hair was down and fluttered softly against her shoulders, a sketchpad was tucked under her arm and her corduroy jacket had a few pencils tucked in the pocket. She appeared like a relaxed and happy artist, ready to sketch a perfect scene but she wasn't looking at him and didn't seem to be looking at anything, belying her calm exterior.

"What are you thinking?"

"What the hell am I doing here," she answered plainly. She turned to leave but stopped when he called her name.

"Ariadne, please don't go. I'm sorry. I messed up. Multiple times over." He took a deep breath and offered, "I want to fix things."

She came around the bench and sat next to him. "What brought this on?"

He thought for a moment. "Seeing Dom's body. It gave me a new perspective. It gave me a bit of hope."

"Oh."

"And it made me realize that I _really_ screwed things up with you."

They sat in silence for several moments. He wanted to say something more but as the quiet grew, he lost more and more courage.

Finally she said, "I'm sorry for how I left things before. The first time we met here."

"You told me to go to hell."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Don't be. I deserved it. Things were all sixes and sevens in my mind and I thought…I wasn't thinking."

Arthur reflected on their first meeting at this bench and recognized it for the disaster that it was. He had asked her to stay with him, that he wanted her to be his architect and she had told him off for it.

"You know what? Go to hell," she had said before standing abruptly to leave. "How could you even ask that of me? After what happened to Dom?"

"Let's not talk about him," he had replied angrily.

"Just because you try to ignore the elephant in the room doesn't make it disappear, Arthur. In fact, not thinking about it makes you think about it."

She was right then and she was still right now. The more he tried to not think about Dom and saving him, the more thoughts entered his mind about how to recover his friend. He was just too screwed up to realize it before now.

"Arthur?" Ariadne questioned, pulling him from his reverie.

"I'm not going to ask you to come back. I want you to. I _need_ you to."

"Yeah, so we can recover Dom, I understand."

"Without sounding trite, not just for Dom."

She paused for a moment before breathing, "Oh."

"You'll have to forgive me, Ariadne. I've been in the business of manipulating dreams so long that the exciting nuances of reality seem surreal to me." He reached forward and brushed his fingers against her cheek. "Like the sixteen shades of red that your cheeks turn when you blush."

"I doubt it's sixteen," she mumbled self-consciously.

"And your fiery spirit. Though I'd have to be dead to miss that."

"Thanks, I think."

"It's a compliment, take it for that." He watched as stared at her hands, knotting and unknotting her fingers while she thought. She really was better than any woman he could dream up. "Thank you for staying and hearing me out."

"You were on my park bench."

"You shared it with me, remember?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you regret it?"

The corner of her mouth rose, only slightly, but it was enough to give him hope.

He reached his hand out again to brush the hair from her shoulder but decided to let it fall to his knee, unsure if she would appreciate the contact. But then, ignoring propriety he mumbled, "Aw, screw it," and slid across the bench and kissed her.

She was shocked at first; he could feel how rigid her spine was at his fingertips. But he didn't care. It didn't matter to him that she was only kissing him because he had surprised her. He enjoyed kissing her. It was the first thing in a long while that he found true pleasure in. And then she relaxed against him and started to kiss him back and he liked it even better.

Finally he released her, his hands dropping down to her legs because he didn't want to lose contact with her. He felt like even more of the weight was removed from his chest and he wondered if another kiss might take it all away.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered.

He grinned. "I might not get another chance. Plus, I didn't think I could trick another kiss from you."

"Clever man."

He kissed her again briefly, wrapping his hands around her dainty neck and brushing his thumb against the soft skin below her jaw. When he pulled back, he couldn't keep the smile from his lips.

"Let's get something to eat," he suggested, grabbing her hand as he stood.

"Arthur, we need to talk."


	12. Baggage

Dear Readers, Sorry. Life. :\ This is the last loose end I had to bow to make my mind happy. Recovery starts in the next chapter. Thank you for being patient. Reviews much appreciated.

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Disclaimers: same

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Eames looked over from his spot by the IV poles and watched Yusuf tinkering over his chemistry set, muttering to himself. They had been in the posh hotel suite for a few hours, both keeping to themselves as they waited for the others to show, and Eames hadn't stopped long enough to study the other man.

"You look a bit like a mad scientist, yeah?"

Yusuf's eyes darted up over the top of his case, narrowed, then returned to his work. He uttered something in Arabic that Eames thought were curse words then said in English, "Says the man playing doctor."

Eames chuckled. "Fair enough. Just what are you doing?"

"It calms my nerves," he replied then added, "I was hoping to tweak the formula to make us a bit more open to suggestion. Relax our minds a bit more."

"A shot of vodka should do that, don't you think?"

"You shouldn't layer a fermented beverage on top of a distillate. Quite a volatile mix."

"Uh—what?"

"Champagne and vodka. I drank champagne on the plane, right?"

Eames shook his head slowly but didn't voice his opinions on the strangeness of the chemist. If he preferred to work with chemical compounds instead of worrying about a stomach ache, Eames wasn't going to stop him.

His duties with the bodies done, he walked back to the table where his notes were spread out and fingered a few of the pages apart. One page was about Dom's work as Mr. Charles, it was a bit wrinkled from where Than had gone over it several times; the other was a crude diagram of the snow fortress so he could keep it fresh in his mind. Closing his eyes, he breathed out through his nose as he tried to not think about the chore of blowing up his dream again.

"Eames?"

Glancing up, he realized Yusuf had been talking to him.

"I said, just how long before the mind turns to scrambled eggs in limbo?"

Knocking the table a few times with his knuckle trying to decide what information to divulge Eames finally answered, "It depends on the mind. In the early years of the technology, countless soldiers were 'performing their duty' and volunteering for the job." He tried to hide his contempt but didn't think he quite covered it. "There were only a few recoveries attempted and none of them succeeded."

"Brilliant," Yusuf said sarcastically.

"That's not the worst of it. One of the more highly classified attempts—the last try—they made it all the way to limbo and found the man."

"And you know about this how?"

Eames' mouth puckered but he continued, "He had been there for four weeks, our time mind you. He had lived an infinite amount of lives in an infinite amount of places in that time. You see, he had figured out a way to sort of reset limbo."

"How so?"

"The main problem when dreaming? Not knowing you're dreaming. And living a dream too long? You lose the ability to realize you aren't in reality. This man kept killing himself in limbo. Without a body to receive it, his mind would reboot."

"Dom is a smart man like that."

"Let's hope."

They were silent for several moments before Yusuf asked, "What happened to that man? In limbo. You said no recovery attempts were successful."

Rubbing the back of his neck, he thought about that man, the botched recovery, the repercussions and wanted to punch his fist through the table. Instead he revealed, "They didn't get the kicks right. Got him up to the second level then lost him again. And then the soddin' buggers left him. The person that went after him? He still haunts their dreams."

He couldn't say more about the recoverer. He didn't want to. Knowing Yusuf was a superstitious man, he had banked on the chemist being hung up on the idea of jinns, evil spirits, and ghosts that usually accompanied the word haunting. That word wasn't too far from the truth, however.

Relief dulled the ache in his head when Yusuf remarked, "You don't mean literally, do you?"

It felt good to have someone else know this, the forger realized. It was a cathartic release, of sorts, but a double edge sword because it wasn't information that was comfortable knowing. But he wasn't in a state of caring as he countered, "Where do you think the mind goes when it gets lost? Don't say limbo like it's London or Vegas. Really think about it.

"That limbo that's created? It comes about from the people that help create it. Only the people that go to limbo. Which they take with them, and anything in it, when they leave."

Yusuf's forehead wrinkled considerably and then his eyes opened with realization.

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Arthur kissed the top of Ariadne's head as she rested against his shoulder. He didn't think she was asleep, but he didn't want to disturb her thoughts, wherever they may be. His own thoughts were every which way but straight and to carry on a coherent conversation wasn't appealing to him.

What they had discussed at the bench this time unnerved him.

He was really beginning to hate that bench.

This time, she hadn't told him off but had shared a rather disturbing dream she kept having since the inception job. He found it strange that she was seeing things and recalling them with such vividness but he told her it was normal for such an extensive job. She had asked if it was normal to even see things when she wasn't dreaming.

"Like a daydream?" he had asked.

She hesitated, "No."

"Like a waking dream," he offered.

"What do you mean?"

"Waking dreams are continuations of dreams we've had while we slept. Usually, if you lay completely still just after you wake or if you meditate on a dream, you can continue it."

"That has to be it," she remarked. "The dreams…they're about Saito and Dom. They seem so real. Like I'm talking directly to them and not dreaming their conversation. It's like I have no control over them."

He had smiled and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry about it. Time will quiet those down."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

And at the time he had been. But now that he had time to think about it, he wasn't so certain.


	13. With Any Luck

Disclaimer: same apply.

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Knock. Knock. Knock._

Than looked over the top of her notes, unsure if she had really heard the noise and then jumped slightly when the sound happened again. Peering over at her companion and making certain he was still asleep, she uncurled her legs from under her and went to the door.

"Thanie?" her brother whispered lightly from the other side.

"Password?" she teased, hesitating before opening the door.

"Witty." His eyebrow was perched high on his forehead and his lips were drawn together slightly but he was a welcome sight.

"In. Quick." She left him to enter the living room as she went to close the door to the bedroom, cutting off her view of Robert. She was fairly certain he would stay asleep but being able to see that fact would have been a comfort.

Sunlight was coming through the small slit between the curtains in gray streaks so she figured it was near dawn and time to get to work on the job. Her brother confirmed that thought when he said, "She's ghosting."

She stopped at the wet bar and poured a glass of water. Ghosting was a term used to describe the side effects of someone that had another's psyche in their mind. She rubbed at her temple, trying to push memories from her mind but finding it almost impossible. The person in the next room was part of the reason. Her own ghosts the other.

"I thought I noticed it when we woke after Arthur's shades made their appearances," he said. "When she woke, the way she handled her totem made me think of Cobb."

"Yes. Some of her mannerisms, too, they remind me of him. His temper especially."

Eames nodded. "Fischer prepped?"

She mimicked his gesture. "We were up all night so he won't think anything of sleeping all day."

Stepping over to her, Eames tweaked his sister's side, forcing a hiss to escape between her teeth. "And just what were you doing to be up all night?"

Her elbow shot out and connected with his stomach just below the ribs. "Crass, brother."

"What I'm here for," he smiled, rubbing his side. "There's been a slight change in plans."

"How so?"

"It's Arthur's idea to take both Saito and Dom along."

"Arthur's idea?" she asked.

"Yeah. That stick in the mud's decided now's a good time to be creative."

A grin pulled at the corners of her mouth as she leaned against the counter behind her. She hid behind it as she internalized the worry lines around his eyes and felt a twinge of sympathy pulling at her heart. She knew how much her brother tried to sever any ties that might form with acquaintances but knew he hadn't been successful this time. It would be good for him. He needed a few links to this world. Patting his shoulder, she offered, "You must be rubbing off on him."

"Just peachy," he retorted but she thought he might actually enjoy that idea.

"Then we should do it."

"Why?" he questioned. After studying his sister, he followed with asking, "Ariadne?"

"Yeah. The kid's growing on me."

He exhaled. "We better be careful, sister. We're putting down far too many roots with this clan."

"It appears Arthur is rubbing off on you, too."

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Than watch her brother and Arthur carry Robert into the bedroom and plop him onto a chair near the end of Dom's bed. Her nose wrinkled at the utter lack of care for his sleeping form, even if he was completely knocked out from Yusuf's compound, but she wasn't going to say anything about it. Ariadne, tucked in the corner, watched everything with a wrinkle between her eyebrows and Than knew she was more ready to get the job started than willing to admit.

Arthur stepped over to the architect and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. "Ready?"

"I should say no, but I don't think that would be the truth." Her shoulders popped slightly in an innocent shrug as she stretched out on one of the two cots in the room, Arthur grabbing her hand as he settled onto the other.

Eames chuckled as he pushed his sleeve up slightly and winked at his sister. "See you on the other side, dearheart."

Than offered a half smile, turned to Fischer again, brushed some hair from his forehead and then took the seat next to him.

Yusuf was the last to settle, adjusting the machine so that when he pushed the button to mix the compound into their systems, he would slump over comfortably.

"Ruddy me!" Eames exclaimed, startling all of them into ceasing what they were doing. "Yusuf, I almost forgot…" he reached down next to Saito's bed and pulled out a green glass bottle. "I believe this is your favorite."

The chemist smiled, took the bottle and swallowed a generous swig of champagne. The liquid bubbled out the top when his mouth broke contact but he seemed to have little regard for it. "I should have toasted to our success."

"We're not going to need it," Ariadne responded confidently.

"Dom better watch his back," Arthur said, kissing her hand. "His ego might just have a match."

Than caught Eames glance at her from the corner of her eye as she readied the needle over Robert's vein but focused on the point as it pierced his skin. Taking a deep breath, she performed the same action on her wrist and settled down in her chair.

"Avec un peu de chance," Yusuf said, taking another gulp.

Then he pushed the button.

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Swerving aggressively to the right, Than uttered an oath as the car fishtailed in the rain and skidded to a stop against a streetlamp. Ripping her seatbelt off, she hopped out of the vehicle and scurried back to the body that she had maneuvered to miss.

"At least it's not a train!" Ariadne shouted through the din of the downpour.

"Just help me get him in the car!" Than yelled, grabbing Dom under the arms and pulling him to the vehicle.

Obliging, Ariadne hooked him under the knees and the two heaved him into the car.

Suddenly the world around them shook violently, banging the architect into the car and causing Than to peer around, waiting for the world to rip apart around them. "They must have found Saito."

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Reviews appreciated. :)


	14. As We Go Further

We're almost there! Reviews are appreciated.

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Disclaimers: same as before

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"I got it!" Yusuf said giddily for the twentieth time. He was helping Ariadne carry Saito's body to the cargo van; it was the first time since they entered the warehouse that he hadn't been rubbing his hands together with excitement from his success.

"Yes, Yusuf. I see. I'm so glad the world isn't crumbling around us."

Undeterred by her exasperated attitude, he continued in a sanguine tone, "At least he's not bleeding this time." They chucked Saito into the van and then moved on to Dom who was considerably heavier.

The door across the room opened and Dom Cobb walked in. The building around them shook violently and a fracture split the ceiling, letting in the rain.

"Focus, Yusuf," Dom then Than warned as she shifted back into her usual form.

The transformation was instantaneous but unsettling for Ariadne. For some reason, and she couldn't figure out what, she felt comforted seeing Dom there, even if it wasn't really him. It was like some part of her was energized by his presence.

"They have their hour. Nos is trying to convince Robert about the will."

"Do you think he'll realize he's dreaming again?" Ariadne asked strained.

"Let's hope not," Than said, grabbing a leg and helping them.

The building shook around them and the two women turned to Yusuf. "Not me," he said defensively.

Unexpectedly Arthur skidded up next to them, throwing Than's balaclava at her and explaining, "Fischer's mind is a little more on its toes this time around. Their hour just ended."

Adrenaline rocketed through Ariadne's body as she watched two men repel past the upper windows of the warehouse.

"Time to go," Than agreed, running toward the room where Eames and Robert were, yanking on her mask and transforming into Cobb.

Reaching into a bag, Arthur pulled out a sniper riffle and handed it to Yusuf and then a grenade launcher for Ariadne.

Staring at the small bag nonplussed, she mumbled, "Do you have Mary Poppins in there too?"

Kissing her temple before rushing off after Than, he instructed, "Aim a bit higher than you think. And watch out for the guy behind the transformer!"

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Ariadne threw the weapon down after she watched the far away tower explode in a fire ball. She was trying to convince herself it was just a dream but somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn't help think she was destroying part of Fischer's.

"He's figuring things out too quickly this time around," Eames declared, ripping the hood from his head and stepping out of the vehicle. Fischer, the man he was talking about, was in the backseat sedated. "The numbers came too fast; he's thinking too much, he's questioning what's going on, he's going to get us in trouble."

"We need to get him into the next level then," Than said. "Tell him that he is dreaming so he stops fighting it."

"Won't that just cause problems?" Ariadne asked.

Eames cursed as gunfire pinged against the exterior of the building; he and Arthur went off to take care of the attackers.

Than thought out loud. "If I can convince him that he's still in that dream, the first one, that he's looped into it until they get the information from him, maybe…"

She trailed off as a hooded gunman burst through the windows near the roofline, gun blazing bullets their way.

"Time to go!" Arthur shouted, pulling Ariadne to his side and running to the van. Eames and Than jumped in just after them while Yusuf started the engine and floored the gas pedal.

Shooting out onto the rain drenched streets, the van rattled and echoed as countless bullets sprayed the sides. Seeming to ignore the danger, Arthur pulled out the mechanism and handed out tubes to each of them.

Taking his, and playing devil's advocate, Eames said, "Convincing Fischer that he's still in the same dream? It can't be done."

"I can do it," Than declared, sliding a tube into Robert's arm.

"Without getting us torn to pieces?"

"You just play your part as that leggy blonde and I'll convince Robert."

"And if you don't?"

She looked sternly at her brother before cupping the chemist on the shoulder and ordering, "Yusuf, drive safe."

"Sleep well," he said, pressing the button.

**I~I~I~I~I**

Ariadne sat next to Arthur on the couch and held her breath as they watched Dom walk across the lobby.

"Déjà vu," she whispered, rubbing the chills out of her arms.

"Like you've dreamed this before?"

"Something like that. Saito and Dom are—"

"I'm hoping in the bathroom in room 528. That's where I aimed for, at least."

"What if we have to go searching for them?"

He paused for a moment. "Try to be positive."

Nodding slowly, she rubbed her palms against her thighs this time. "When will we know if it works or if it's all going to hell?"

"Soon enough. The projections will tip us off."

They watched as men and women in business suits walked pointedly through the lobby, their expensive shoes that were definitely created by Fischer's subconscious clicked against the shiny marble floor. If Ariadne had to guess, she would assume most of them were lawyers, maybe a few Wall Street tycoons. Even in her expensive suit and fancy hairdo, she still felt amazingly out of place for more than one reason.

She thought about the first time they were there, when things were still new and scary in a different way. Turning to Arthur, she asked, "Should we kiss again?"

His offered a half grin and pressed his lips to hers. Suddenly the building shook violently and the chandeliers swayed unnaturally above them. "C'mon, we have bombs to collect." Grabbing her hand, he directed her to the elevators and pushed the button for the fourth floor once they were inside.

"You seem to be holding it together rather well."

"I'm trying. Thinking of Than as Dom is much easier than keeping my shades at bay."

"Are we ever going to discuss…_her_?" She hated saying it. Like he had cheated on her with another woman.

"She is just…something I'm having to deal with."

"I'll say."

He pulled at his face, his fingers wrapping around his chin as his hand moved downward. She watched his reflection in the polished elevator doors, then smiled awkwardly when their eyes connected.

Turning to her, he said, "Ariadne, I've never felt like this about anyone. You'll have to forgive me if my subconscious gets away from me."

"Just keep her from stabbing me again."

"That's the plan."

The elevator doors opened and Arthur lead her to room 491. "Let's hope Yusuf doesn't drive us off an embankment again."

Ariadne watched quietly as Arthur worked quickly setting the charges in the same places as before. He seemed sure of his actions, like he wouldn't have to undo them again like last time.

When he caught her watching him, he strode over to her, wrapped his arms around her and promised, "When this is all over, I'm taking you to a real hotel and making sure you get pampered until you're sick."

"I'll hold you to that."

They hurried out of the room and up to the fifth floor where they planned to meet up with Fischer and Mr. Charles.

"It must be working," Ariadne offered hopefully, grabbing his hand and holding it close to her body. "We're still in one piece, right?"

"Right," he confirmed, rounding the last corner.

He stopped abruptly, causing her to stumble into him. Finding her bearings, she peered around his shoulder and looked down the hall to find Robert Fischer with Than Eames.


	15. Sleep and Death

Dear Readers, I really do appreciate the reviews I have received while writing this fic. Sadly, this will be your last chance to review so make it count! (I know, shameless...)

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Disclaimers: same apply.

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"Stop yelling at me, Nos!" Than shouted, tying her red wig into a ponytail. It was how Robert knew her and she wanted things to stay familiar for him. "It worked didn't it?"

Than watched as Arthur and her brother carried Saito's body from the bathroom and dropped it on the bed next to Dom's who had been in the room next door. Thankfully they found him in the first room they went to; the young woman who was staying in the suite helped when she rushed from her room screaming that someone was passed out in her bathroom.

Robert was unconscious in a chair next to the projection of his unconscious uncle.

"Why do you have to go to such extremes all the time?" he shot back, mirroring her position. It annoyed her how similar they were.

"Look, we were in the bathroom, I had just killed the projections. I had to convince him that he was not only dreaming but that he had created me to help him out, that Mr. Charles was in charge of security but that Robert had created me because he felt secure with me. He trusts me! It wasn't hard to convince him that our meeting was his subconscious trying to create a safe place, or in this case person. So back off!"

"My head hurts," Ariadne grumbled to herself.

"Why do you have to be such a bloody pain in my a—"

"Remember that the next time you run to me to save that a—"

"_Enough_!" Arthur ordered. "Save your sibling spat for when we're out of this. I'll need all the time I can get to fight off his goons."

Than angrily grabbed one of the tubes and prepped Robert before slipping one into her own vein.

"Be safe," Ariadne said before slumping over.

"Keep her safe," he ordered Than just before she passed out.

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

"Leave it to your bloody subconscious to be a frigid ice world," Than grumbled as she shrugged in her parka. She was standing next to her brother and Ariadne; they watched as Robert skied down the mountain to where they stood.

"Guys, stop it," Ariadne ordered. "Do you think they're up there?"

Eames peered over his shoulder to the fortress and thought about Saito and Dom.

"Who?" Robert asked, gliding over to Than; she wrapped her arms around one of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Who's going to take Fischer into the fortress?" Eames asked, changing the subject.

"I will," Than volunteered, handing her rifle to Ariadne. "Do you have our backs?"

"I'll try."

"Just make sure you get there. You need to be there to—"

"Wait, shh!" Eames interrupted. "Do you hear that?"

The breeze curled its way around her, setting deep into her bones making it hard to remember it was only a dream. But then the wind changed pitch, a slow, deep, resonating tone that told them their time was almost up.

"That's impossible! We've done everything better—"

Eames interrupted Ariadne, "We need to get a move on it, loves. Thanie?"

"We're on it," she said, directing her skis toward the fortress hospital. "Let's go Robert!"

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Than tucked through the last grate and entered the main room of the compound. It was sterile, just like a hospital, and high-tech; the floor to ceiling vault door which hid Robert's father looked imposing and impenetrable.

Robert stepped away from her, over to the bank of windows. His hand was parallel to the ground, fingers splayed out as if he were taking measurements or trying to make something appear.

"What are you doing, Robert?"

"It was here."

"What was?"

"Where I was shot last time."

Than nodded. "Yes. Remember, we're cycling back through the dream until we get the information we need."

"No," he said flatly. "We have the information we need. I'm not going to limbo again."

The walls of the impenetrable fortress shook violently and a slew of men repelled passed the windows.

"Robert, she doesn't know—"

"Is it you? Did you trap her in this dream?"

The rattling of bullets against the glass filled Than's ears and she strained to keep her composure in front of the dreamer. "No. I was created in a dream world. I was needed to get through this. That's the only reason why I exist."

"She doesn't believe you."

Ariadne stepped out from the shadow of a bulkhead, studying the pair. Than looked over at her, concern narrowing her eyes and pulling her eyebrows together. "Don't you get it?" she asked.

Looking back at the other woman, Ariadne realized she was talking to her. "Get what?"

"How many times have you lived out this dream?" Robert asked, turning his attention to the dreamer as well.

Than rested her hands on her hips. "I'm a different twist, though. A shade created from all the dominant features of the others? Clever. Headstrong like Dom, able to pick up all the slack like Arthur, and a Jack-of-all-trades like Eames—I suppose that's why you made me his sister, eh?—and living in a dream world all the time…like you."

"What?"

"It was sweet that you wanted to save Saito and Dom, if you do say so yourself."

"She's confused, Than. Explain it to her."

"Pull out your totem, luv," Than ordered, completely ignoring the shattering of glass behind her.

Ariadne reached into her pocket and pulled out the wobbly bishop. She held her palm flat for the others to see.

"You've pulled that out a lot. Have you ever tested it? Seen if it would tip over?"

Stuttering a soft rebuff, Ariadne slowly knelt and placed the bishop on the edge of its round bottom. Her fingers snapped away, shock causing them to shake as she watched the game piece balance precariously on its rim, not threatening to fall.

"So I'm sleeping?"

"If you want to call it that."

"Where am I then? I don't understand."

"I think you do. I can't tell you anything you haven't already figured out," Than explained, walking over to the window as if to enjoy the view. "Sometimes you control your own little demons and sometimes the demons control you. Does it matter where it happens?" She paused as if for dramatic effect. "You want to know the difference between Sleep and Death, darling? Not one bloody thing. Hell, limbo—it's all the same. "

Ariadne choked out a sob.

**I~I~I~I~I~I**

Ariadne recognized the familiar rushing sounds as she slowly woke. Even without opening her eyes she knew she was on an airplane, in one of those posh reclining seats reserved for first class customers only. She felt the aftereffects of the sedatives at the fringes of her mind and she shook her head a few times, trying to clear away the cobwebs.

"Madam? We've landed."

Opening her eyes, she looked up at the flight attendant and then to her fellow passengers. Robert Fischer sat rubbing his chin, deep in thought. Dom sat behind him, returning his Sky Mall magazine to the pouch beside him. All the others were getting ready to disembark from the plane, doing normal things in their normal ways.

She plunged her hand into her pocket and retrieved her bishop, holding it on the flat of her hand as she studied it. It would tip over, she knew it.

Resting it on the edge of its bottom, she had to take extra care to steady it because her fingers were shaking so badly. Slowly, she removed her fingers one by one until just her index finger supported it. Watching as the overhead lights twinkled against the polished surface of the game piece, she pulled her last finger away, and wasn't at all surprised by the outcome.

The End.


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